Sunday, June 8, 2014

Now Close the Windows

Robert Frost

Now close the windows and hush the fields:
       If the trees must, let them silently toss;
No bird is singing now, and if there is,
       Be it my loss.

It will be long ere the marshes resume,
       It will be long ere the earliest bird:
So close the windows and not hear the wind,
       But see all wind-stirred.


Carlene said...

one of my very favorite poems...

Dawn Potter said...

So lovely. I found it by accident this morning and had to share it.